past, lanterns bobbing.
'Yelver surprises me more and more,' the fat moneylender muttered, 'but we'll never know his secrets now. No one could've-'
There was a creaking close at hand as a 'downsteps door' opened. Durnan peered down a narrow flight of stone steps past the usual clutter of rain barrels and discarded trash, into one of the many cellar-level entries common to that part of North Ward. After the blasts, someone could come out curious, or wanting to flee, or waving a blade and wild enough with fear to use it on anyone.
Mirt hastily drew back his boots to let the lone cloaked and cowled figure mount the steps, noting bare, empty hands clutching at her-yes, her-cloak to keep her features covered.
She stopped, peering up at the two men, and said, 'Stand back, if you please, and let me pass.'
It was the calm voice they'd traded words with in the darkness.
'Of course,' Mirt squeaked, trying to make his voice sound unlike his own.
He and Durnan both stepped back, lifting empty hands to signal that they meant no harm. But as the woman reached the top of the steps, Durnan whirled back to face her, luring her attention. Mirt plucked back her cowl.
Her revealed face was smiling wryly. Beneath the emerald-green cloak was a rather plain, heavy-set woman in a rumpled gown. She had very large, dark, arresting eyes. Around their dark-fire gaze one scarcely noticed plump cheeks, pale skin, and unruly brown hair.
'Well met, lady,' Durnan said. 'What price are your secrets now?'
'Bensvelk Miirik Darastrix loex?'
The hiss was swift and angry.
'The Keeper?' a deeper, calmer voice rumbled. 'Nay, nay, she lives. Were she to die, yon crystal would burst.' A hand waved at a glowing orb of glass halfway across the cavern. 'And you really should keep to Common, Orauth. Even in Waterdeep, Draconic attracts attention.'
'Malval om aurm!'
'Of course your anger is great. So is mine. To lose her would be an aurm blow, yes, but the true korth is if humans learn what she does-and through her, of us. Which is why I watch the crystal. Anyone who captures, attacks, or hurls magic at her must die.'
'Lay a hand on me,' the woman said, 'and I'll scream for the Watch.'
As she spoke, more Watch officers trotted past, several Watchful Order mages striding among them.
'Ye mistake our natures, lady,' Mirt protested.
'No, she doesn't,' Durnan disagreed, before the Keeper could reply.
Whatever word she started to snap dissolved into a swift, short laugh.
She tugged her cowl free of Mirt's fingers, faced them both squarely, and asked, 'What do you want?'
Mirt blinked at her then said, 'Uh-er-to know thy name, an' who those men were, an' what ye did to them an' how, an'… an'…'
'Yelver's secrets,' she finished calmly, shaking her head.
'Nicely listed, lady,' Durnan agreed politely, and fell into waiting silence.
As it stretched, the three of them stood regarding each other, and the street around them filled with gawking Waterdhavians.
'Very well,' the woman said at last. 'You may call me Taunamorla.'
'And?' Durnan asked politely.
'I am still,' Taunamorla said with a smile, 'the Keeper of Secrets.'
'Your real name being one of them?'
Taunamorla's smile widened.
'Of course,' she replied. 'Now, neither of you are dullards-and so I believe you can guess how dangerous questioning me further will be.'
Durnan touched Mirt's arm, and the stout moneylender nodded curtly. He'd already caught sight of a tall, cloaked man striding toward them among the gathering crowd of gawkers who were staring at the shouting Watch and the smoking, still stone-shedding ruin of the shop. At Durnan's caution, he saw two more cold-eyed men, bareheaded but in full armor, approaching from where the innkeeper was facing.
'You have friends,' Durnan observed calmly.
'I keep secrets,' Taunamorla replied. 'Go now, and keep your lives.'
Mirt bowed to her and started away down the street, leaving behind only the comment, 'We'll meet again, Lady of Secrets.'
Her reply was as calm as ever: 'Of course.'
They were halfway back to the Portal when fire mounted up into the night sky behind them with a roar that sent Mirt staggering.
'Keep going,' Durnan said. 'Whatever's happening, I'm sure the Keeper of Secrets is involved-and that we're better off draining tankards over our lancers and pondering what she is. Beyond a powerful spell hurler, that is.'
'A powerful spell hurler with enemies,' Mirt replied, as they hastened on together.
Another, larger blast followed, then far-off screams, splintering sounds, and what sounded like something very large-lunged roaring in pain-a protest that abruptly ended in yet another explosion.
Mirt glanced back, but could see nothing more than a lot of sparks and cinders, high above the roofs of Waterdeep. Then the horns of the Watch started-the full alarm-call that would summon the Guard, and mages, and-
'The Portal' Durnan reminded his friend.
Mirt lurched two steps more along the way back to the inn before the air in front of them flickered, and the Keeper of Secrets was suddenly standing in front of them, her eyes glittering with anger.
'Gentlesirs, I find I need you,' she said.
'Us? Upstanding merchants of Waterdeep?' Mirt grunted.
Taunamorla smiled thinly and said, 'Indeed. Upstanding merchants of the city are precisely what I'm in need of, just now.'
'How so?'
'Your word will be accepted by the Watch-and I can bargain with you.'
'You want us to lie about something,' Durnan observed. 'About what, and for what reward?'
'My thanks for your haste,' the Keeper of Secrets said in a rush, giving him a smile that might warm most men's hearts. 'I will trade you all of Yelver's secrets for a few words of false testimony.'
'Say on,' Mirt rumbled. 'What testimony?'
'To defend his very life, a friend of mine was just forced to trade spells with several Watchful Order mages. Men died-a lot of men, some of those mages and officers of the Watch among them-and I need you to swear that this friend of mine was with you, since you left my office earlier this night.'
Durnan lifted a disbelieving eyebrow and replied, 'Our word against many of the Watch? Lady, you overestimate our reputations. If they know they saw him, the protests of an innkeeper and a moneylender aren't going to-'
'When fighting the Watch, my friend wore a magical disguise. He looked like a dragon, not like himself.'
Durnan cast a swift, questioning glance at Mirt-who looked straight at Taunamorla and shook his head.
'Nay,' Mirt grunted. 'Yelver's secrets were worth seventeen dragons to me-if they could lead to the recovery of all my loaned coins. Knowing just who an' what ye truly are-for peace of mind alone-could be worth much more, in the years ahead. So that would be my price. Full and honest answers to these: What manner of creature are ye, lady? When came ye to Waterdeep, an' why? The answer that stands behind keeping secrets for worms like Yelver, mind ye.'
'Do you know what you're asking?' the Keeper of Secrets asked.
'Aye, lady, I believe I do.'
Torches flickered behind them, and there were shouts. Cries of discovery from the Watch, and hastening feet. The woman in the green cloak glanced over Mirt and Durnan's shoulders, her mouth drawing down into a tight line.
'I'm out of time,' she snapped. 'I, Taunamorla, agree to this bargain. Do you, Durnan of Waterdeep? And do you, Mirt of Waterdeep?'
